


'Lil Dude

by BroSprite



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Game, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Blow Jobs, Brother/Brother Incest, Drone Season 2019, Facials, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 05:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroSprite/pseuds/BroSprite
Summary: in which Dave isn't a 'little dude' anymore, he seems just about 'all grown up' and bro is not a big fan of this...





	'Lil Dude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/gifts).

> For Grubbutts
> 
> hi you are?? so cool and I saw brodave on the list and was all eye emojis,, your prompts were SO GOOD!! i admire ur works n content as it is so getting you for drone season was like owo what's this----
> 
> hope you like it!!

"Bwo." A soft tug near the bottom of his shirt causes him to briefly pause, a sponge and dish in hand.

"Yeah, little man?" He asks back, starting to continue the gentle cycle of washing dishes.

"Happy Biwthday." The tugging persists, but it isn't the hugging that brings him to cease washing dishes entirely, turning the faucet off, hastily rubbing his wet hands against his jeans.

Looking down, he can see a round face staring up at him, along with a faint reflection of himself within the triangular shades upon face. "Oh, damn, you remembered 'lil dude? Not gonna lie, I'm pretty impressed," He begins to banter, finally crouching down to the other figure's height.

Dave stares back at him, taking one small step back before quickly stepping thrice forward, the world's most precious smile stretching across those two chubby cheeks of his. Bro starts to smile back, hands reaching forward to ruffle through his 'lil bro's hair.

"Thanks, 'lil man."

"I love you, bwo."

"Fuck, I love you too Dave."

It's a damn fuckin' shame that's quite possibly the last time he's heard Dave say those three words. Honestly, what even is the big deal with the phrase, anyways? Sure, Dave hasn't said the words ever since, at least not to him in that one specific way that those words are oh-so eloquently said 'n all, but the guy has his way of showing it.  
  
He's sure of it, really. Dave's always been a good kid, and while genuine affection ain't always too key with the kid, Bro's sure he still, well, loves him? Fuck.

A half-assed, faint grunt comes from him only seconds after the the thought. Holy shit, that's fucking pathetic. He's fucking pathetic. Fuck. The fact that he's standing there, a cheeto-stained bowl in hand and a sponge in the other, dead-ass feeling sorry for himself over such a matter admittedly makes him feel pretty shitty. Shitty for himself, that is.

Why is it washing dishes always brings out those thoughts, anyways? Or is it tomorrow, the big day? Oh, man.

"Thirty-fuckin' seven." Bro murmurs aloud, an exaggerated sigh following suit. God, that's old. Dave, Dave's gotten pretty old too, huh? The kid is in highschool now, seriously, where has the time gone by? It seems like just yesterday the 'lil dude was asking him to teach him the arts of the blade, to do everything he did and now? Dude's mostly independent and although he ain't an expert at strifin' just yet, he's certainly improved.

Again, why is washing dishes bringing up all these wishy-washy thoughts?

It's then Bro decides he's gonna call it quits on the whole 'washing dishes' thing. There's only a few pans left, fuck it, they can wait.

"Seriously? You're gonna stop there?" A familiar voice causes Bro to nearly flinch, but he remains a cool unnerved position. Instead he casually turns his head back, brows raised to see Dave standing there behind him a few feet away.

A worn, brown backpack is lazily thrown across his left shoulder, rounded aviators lifelessly staring over at him, a free hand at his side while the other holds a can of unopened soda.

"Yea? Cut a guy some slack, ain't like you did yours last night." Bro cuts back, earning a half-assed shrug in return.

"Had a test today, Bro. Had to study, y'know, for my education 'n shit. You really gonna go against that? You want me to drop out? Become a dish-washer for life or somethin'? You want me living here with you forever?" Dave asks, pale eyebrows raising although the faint hint of mischief lingers in his tone with the questions.

Bro takes this into heavy consideration, more so because this sad, borderline pathetic, no, scratch that. A sad, very pathetic part of him wants to answer that yeah, Dave could live with him here forever. Things would never change, time would be at a forever stand still and shit would be good. Maybe things wouldn’t be perfect or like they had in the past, hell, things wouldn’t even be how he truly wanted but just this was enough, just Dave was enough.

“Nah, nah, you’re right,” Bro begins, now beginning to lean back against the kitchen counter, offering his own playful cocked eyebrow at Dave. His free hand moves to run back through his own hair, the bits of water helping to comb back golden locks. “Can’t keep ‘ya here forever. If you live here forever then how the hell am I ever gonna have a legit kid-free vacation? Or renovate the entire living room into part of my studio? So, as much as it fucking wounds me to say it, you win this time ‘lil dude.” Bro goes on, watching Dave from behind his shades the entire time, his other hand raising to make idle gestures.

For a moment he can almost swear he sees something on Dave’s face, some kind of emotion he conceals the instant it starts to break out. His eyebrows seemed to lower, lips threatening to break into a frown, there’s something there but before Bro can even properly grasp at it, it’s gone.

“Of course I am, always was.” Dave answers back, beginning to finally turn away from him to head on up to his room.

Maybe he’d imagined it.

“Hey, Bro.”

Bro blinks underneath the shades, looking at where Dave’s stopped, not facing him still.

“I’m not really a ‘little dude’ anymore. Just sayin’.” And with that Dave’s gone, heading up the stairs with gentle ‘thuds’ before finally disappearing into his room with the final ‘click’ of his door properly closing.

Bro doesn’t move, not instantly. He’s left leaning back against the counter, frozen by the constriction tugging at his chest. His hands gradually fall down to his sides, shoulders falling back, slumping even.

“...Yeah. Right.” It’s only but a whisper, as no one really needs to hear aside from himself.

Dave wasn’t some kid anymore. Of course Bro knew this, duh Dave wasn’t a fucking ‘lil kiddo, he was practically grown at this point. Didn’t need help tying his shoes or reaching shit up on the top shelves, didn’t immediately come home to tell Bro all about his day, didn’t creep into his room late at night with the claim of being ‘scared’, despite showing no signs of fear.

Dave was all grown up now, basically. It’s been like this for a few years now, Dave being borderline an adult. He’s still a teenager even now but he’s grown independent.

He should be used to this by now, really. It’s probably just the dish-washing thoughts, that and tomorrow’s date. Nothing more, and surely nothing less.

Despite everything he’d thought moments ago, Bro turns around and turns the water back on. He goes on to finish the rest of the dishes, forcibly getting over himself in the act of doing so. He’s chill, really. He’s a grown ass adult and he can handle himself better than this, and the first step to doing so is finishing the goddamn dishes.

The second step, although considerably less mature, is going to bed. It’s not unusual for him to sleep so early within the day, Dave’s already aware that his sleep schedule is shit and therefore such behavior isn’t strange.

Once alone in his room, there’s really only one other thing to do. First, he listens. He can’t hear Dave, can’t hear his door opening, any footsteps going up or down the stairs, nothing. Dave’s still upstairs up in his room and therefore, the coast is entirely clear.

Two hands move to hastily unbuckle his belt, soon unbuttoning his pants before pulling them down to his knees. After this all that’s left is to slowly slide a hand down beneath his own boxers, familiar fingertips gently trailing down his crotch before meeting the base of his dick.

He doesn’t act just yet, though. Instead his fingers linger there, beginning to aimlessly knead at the base before gradually lowering downwards, eyes slowly beginning to close.

The first thing that comes to mind, like always, is Dave. There’s a second his image tugs at Bro’s chest, harshly pulling at his lungs, his airway, threatening to suffocate him then— but the twitch of his dick banishes any guilt away in an instant.

Fuck guilt.

Finally his fingertips begin to trail back upwards before slowly beginning to cup around his half-hardened length. Fingers begin to carefully rub against it at a slow and steady pace, but as he begins to harden this pace increases, fingers slowly starting to grip more firmly as the seconds draw to minutes, as his breath becomes more strained, the image of Dave becoming more clear, the faces he’d make, those cherry eyes looking up at him, the soft flush across his freckled face—

“Bro?”

A single word ends his life right then and there.

His already racing heart somehow seems to increase in speed, the sound almost deafening, head jolting up to look over towards the door, eyes quite possibly as large as they could be.

Standing there at the door is Dave. There’s no one else it would be, really. The genuine sight of him does cause his dick to practically throb, but that’s nothing compared to the burning sensation clogging up his throat. There’s no blanket or sheet to cover what he’s doing, to hide his fucking hand, his cock, all of it, there’s no fucking hiding any of it and Dave’s just fucking staring.

The worst part is, he’s still hard. The physical genuine sight of Dave does nothing to his dick except encourage it. His hand wants to move, to pump, to stroke, but it doesn’t dare budge.

After too many seconds too long, Bro finally speaks.

_“Get the fuck out!!”_ A part of him scolds himself for sounding childish, how defensive and high-pitched his voice gets, the way he’s unable to hide his horrified expression from his face. He’s never felt so fucking vulnerable before and god, if it doesn’t turn him on. The fact Dave’s there period, that he’s seeing this, that he saw this, that’s enough as it is.

But even after Bro’s yell, Dave doesn’t move. No, he’s still fucking staring at Bro who still has his fucking dick in his hand.

Ultimately, the stare-down grows less and less exciting to Bro’s dick as his mind starts to take over the situation. Dave isn’t moving. He’s probably fucking traumatized under those shades and Jesus fuck, he still hasn’t bothered to cover himself. What the actual fuck is he doing? He can’t find it in him to move, to cover up and hide away under a blanket, no, he’s just staring right back at Dave who still hasn’t fucking looked away. Why won’t he just shut the door? Retreat? Is he fucking paralyzed?

In his hand he can feel his dick just barely threatening to go soft, despite it all. He’s becoming increasingly repulsed with himself, a complete and utter turn off—

Until Dave takes a step forward.

Being caught like this is one thing, but having his cock practically flare up like a goddamn king cobra or some shit is another. The damn thing practically throbs within his hand and nearly coaxes a moan from him, but Bro wouldn’t dare.

Instead wide orange eyes stare-down Dave as, oh-so slowly, he approaches. Bro isn’t sure what the hell is going on through Dave’s head, his expression only reveals surprise. He can’t see anything else, any disgust or even hatred, there’s nothing there but what Bro could only describe as genuine surprise, but then again maybe that’s just what his dick is telling him.

Or maybe not.

Bro’s hand finally manages to let go of his cock the second Dave touches the bed. In an instant he’s somehow managed to sit up properly, scooting back until his back roughly bumps against the bed frame. Dave only continues to approach, climbing onto the bed without any hesitation, only stopping but a few feet away.

It’s at that very moment that Bro feels very, very small. He’s never been the type to feel this way, let alone to show it. There’s no way to hide his expression right now, the only protection he has are the shades covering wide, fearful eyes. That is until Dave’s hand hesitantly reaches forward, lingering inches from his shades for a few seconds. Bro doesn’t stop him. Dave carefully plucks his shades, neatly folding them before placing them on the bed.

“..Dave.” Is all he can manage to croak out, eyes quickly glancing elsewhere as his head turns away.

“..You aren’t stopping me,” is all Dave comments back, his own voice hesitant, quiet much like Bro’s own.

What, what is he saying? Slowly Bro turns his head to look over at Dave, pausing to now see Dave’s own head is turned off to the side, gaze clearly elsewhere. Bro took this moment to truly look at Dave’s features. There was a faint flush spreading across his face, hands now moving to stay within his lap. He looks oddly vulnerable like this, even with his shades.

Bro briefly wonders what he’d look like right now without them.

It’s at that moment Bro’s own hand, the one that hadn’t been gripping his cock, reached up towards Dave’s face. His fingers hesitated when they were close enough to touch, but finally he’d gently take Dave’s own shades, pulling them from his face and carefully setting them down next to him on the nightstand.

He’s beautiful. Bro’s certain it’s his dick talking, but there’s something about seeing Dave like this. His face is dusted lightly with a blush, his face looks soft, lips, man, his lips look even softer. For a second their eyes meet, crimson staring right into his own orange. Instead of breaking away instantly they continue to gaze at each other, Dave’s own eyes look to be searching his for something, something that Bro isn’t sure just what it is.

“..Is this okay?” It’s Dave that asks, not him. Bro should be the one asking that, he’s the adult here but instead it’s Dave’s soft, hesitant voice asking.

It leaves Bro wondering that exact same question. Is this okay? Clearly it isn’t, Bro knows it’s not and surely Dave does too but between just the two of them? It’s, it’s okay.

“Yeah,” he decides, his own voice hushed. “It’s okay with me. Is this.. Is this cool with you?” Not often is Bro Strider hesitant, but it’s clear in his tone and expression that he’s hesitant now.

Dave, surprisingly, replies in an instant, almost too quickly. “Yes. I mean, yeah, this is cool with me if it’s cool with you. I’ve sort of wanted this for a long time, actually.” And with those words, Bro goes silent for several moments.

Wanted this for a long time? ‘This’? What the fuck was ‘this’ in this context? And what did he mean, he’d wanted this? He was more than okay with this? Bro was at a loss for words but everything Dave has said within that last sentence went straight to his cock. He’d never taken himself as one to get off just to words but goddamn if Dave wasn’t doing the lord’s work right now.

Apparently the slight movement of his cock caught Dave’s attention, looking down at his crotch and keeping his gaze there. Bro couldn’t even breathe as he watches a single pale freckled hand reach out towards him, stopping but an inch before touching his member. Bro’s breath audibly hitches at the sight, the sound causing crimson eyes to dart in his direction and without breaking eye contact, Dave touches him.

Just the simplest touch of someone else’s hand, specifically Dave’s, touching his own cock is enough to make his hips nearly roll, but it’s Dave’s other hand that stops this movement. His other hand firmly grasps Bro’s thigh, holding it there as he begins to move, laying down onto his stomach and scooting his head up closer to Bro’s crotch.

Holy fuckin’ shit. Is he going to?

Dave still hasn’t broken eye contact and it’s at that moment Bro realizes he’s getting a kick out of this. His lips form the slightest smile and with that Bro lets his head fall back onto the pillow, avoiding Dave’s gaze.

“Embarrassed?” Dave asks and _holy fuck he can feel his breath on his dick._

“No-” Bro starts to reply but his voice is broken by a gentle gasp that betrays him. Gentle, wet lips have slipped over the head of his cock and Bro can feel Dave chuckle around his tip. It’s after that Dave slowly lowers his head further and his tongue starts to come into the picture, gently running back and forth across the tip of his head. His pace is slow and steady for the first minute, leaving Bro laying there, hips threatening to raise, hands already beginning to fidget with the covers.

“Get on with it, don’t just fucking play around,” Again his voice betrays him as he speaks, his breathing is uneven and heated.

Once again he can feel Dave fucking chuckling around his dick and honestly, the vibrations from the noise feel nice. Granted, Bro isn’t given the time to properly focus on that. Instead his full attention goes onto Dave’s tongue, the way it then begins to roll along his head, circling it before finally his lips get to work.

It isn’t long before Bro begins to feel incredibly heated, quiet, breathy moans beginning to stir from him, chest rising and falling at an increased pace. The sloppy sucking sounds coming from Dave are the only thing he can hear and holy shit, it’s fuckin' _lewd_. The sounds alone are turning him on but the sensation, fuck if it isn’t something else. His right hand is already moving on it’s own accord, reaching down to grab at Dave’s head, taking in a handful of hair.

Dave seems surprised by the notion, pausing briefly in his work until Bro raises his hips, pleading silently for more. Dave wastes no time giving him just as he asks for, lowering his head back down, seemingly as far as he’s able to go but Bro then tests that theory. With no given warning he begins to press against Dave’s head, only softly at first before staring to move with Dave’s rhythm, urging him to take in more, to let his lips gently wrap around the base of his cock.

And he’d be damned if Dave didn’t just do that. His entire body burns sweetly as Dave’s lips meet the base of his cock, remaining there for a few seconds as his tongue strokes across his shaft before finally pulling up, leaving Bro’s cock with a sickening ‘pop’

As soon as he does, Bro cums. His back arches and his grip in Dave’s hair tightens drastically, hips jerking up as the most sickeningly sweet moan emerges from him. He’d be embarrassed by such a sound if he wasn’t busy melting, his body soon trembling briefly as he cries. It’s seconds later he sinks down deep into the bed, laying there a moment breathing heavily, regaining himself before reality sets in.

Bro quickly lifts his head up and flinches at the sight. Dave’s wearing a face plastered in his cum, a streak is plastered across his face and it drips from his chin. “Shit,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, fuck, I should’ve warned you-” he apologizes, but even despite his words he’d be damned if the sight wasn’t something he wanted to take a picture of. It was surely one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.

“It’s okay, I don’t really mind honestly,” Dave replies quickly, soon pausing as he makes a slight face. “It doesn’t taste like what I thought it would.” He comments then before raising a hand and wiping it across his mouth, soon to wipe said hand on the covers. Bro, although tempted to scowl at this action, instead gives a quiet laugh.

“Sorry to disappoint ‘lil dude.. Wait, “ He starts but soon stops himself, recalling what Dave had told him earlier. Before he can correct himself or anything of the sort, Dave quickly starts talking.

“No it’s cool, don’t sweat it. I basically just showed you that hey I’m not a kid anymore so, so I think it’s fine if you say it now that this is all over with.” He talks quickly, as though nervous. His gaze has yet to meet Bro’s own and that causes Bro to take over the situation, slowly removing his hand from Dave’s head and beginning to sit up in the bed.

“Is.. is that what this is about?” He asks hesitantly, staring down Dave.

Dave sort’ve shrugs his shoulders before finally looking up at Bro. “Sort’ve. I came here to kind’ve talk about it more with you but.. My plan changed, I guess. That and I don’t know, if not now then when would I get a better chance to try something like that? You didn’t stop me so..” Dave trails off and there’s clear uncertainty on his face.

It’s then Bro moves himself, scooting a bit. Dave takes this time to sit up properly and within a minute the two are sitting beside one another, Bro wrapping his arm around the other.

“You did great, y’know.” It’s not the best way to comfort him, as Bro isn’t sure what the right thing to say in this situation is, but Dave takes it well. He offers a soft laugh in return and Bro can see his eyes roll before his head turns to look up at him.

His face is still a bit dirty, there’s cum on his chin, cheeks, and a bit on his forehead, but even so it doesn’t stop Bro from leaning in at that moment, kissing him.

“I know. That’s your birthday present, by the way. It’s early, so don’t expect shit tomorrow.”

Bro laughs at this, nodding his head before quickly kissing Dave once more, pulling back with a grin.

“I won’t, but don’t be surprised if I steal a kiss or something like that. Best early birthday present ever.”

  



End file.
